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More Fun Than A Barrel Of Monkeys
there are multiple questions pertaining to the concept,
'more fun than a barrel of monkeys.'
how big is the barrel?
how many monkeys are we talking about?
how big are the monkeys? Are we talking spider monkeys, chimps, baboons or what?
Are the monkeys old or young and where's the barrel, inside or outside?
If you leave the monkeys in the barrel, you got a problem:
they'll die in their own excrement,
if you lift the lid and let them out,
they might kill you.
a monkey can rip out your eyes, is that fun?
monkeys, leaping and running around the house, can do a lot of damage, is that fun?
monkeys are dirty, so... what exactly do you consider fun?
what's it going to be like trying to get the monkeys back in the barrel?
would that be fun?
what would the neighbors think of you, if you released the monkeys into their yards?
what happens if the police gets involved?
it could mean everything imaginable is more fun than a barrel of these animals.
maybe even more fun than a barrel of human beings.
poem by Richard Jarboe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monkeys Must Know What's Good For Them
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys do mind,
How a banana peels.
And how that's done,
To quicken the taste.
Why bananas do appeal,
And not coconuts?
I had not seen this spoken.
Or discussed in a fuss.
And we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
As they get their vitamins.
And swing from high vines.
Stripping exotic trees,
Of fruit they leave.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And,
We...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
The monkeys must know what's good for them.
And we,
Unfortunately...
Are not monkeys.
Monkeys must know what's good for them.
But we...
Unfortunately,
Are not monkeys.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Magnetic Pulls
Women are beehives hanging from tree top.
Men are lame monkeys, expecting dripping.
Beehives not yielding, monkeys not climbing,
A width is maintained for magnetic pull.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Smartest Monkeys
Well man created the cardboard box to sleep in it
And man converted the newspaper to a blanket
Well you have to admit that hes come a long way
Since swinging about in the trees
Were the smartest monkeys
The smartest monkeys
The evidence is all around
Our brains are bigger
This weve found
The smartest monkeys
Well man discovered the park bench can make a transition
And the rubbish tip makes a valid form of nutrition
With discoveries like these
Civilisation agrees
To give itself a pat on the back
Were the smartest monkeys
The evolutions plain to see
Were the dominant of the species
The smartest monkeys
We brought the caveman from the stoneage
To the subways of the modern world
How they pack so many in
Quick call the guinness book of records
Well you have to admit...
Were the smartest monkeys...
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Hung Me
It's dead, it'd dead you killed it all
you fucked me over, you watched me fall
the life you sucked right out of me
dead you hung me from tree.
My blood spills out onto the ground
it screams, it cries without a sound
there is no victory here for me
dead you hung me from a tree.
You can run but you can't hide
you'll try to say it's suicide
torn apart for all to see
dead you hung me from a tree.
I'll prove to you your world is wrong
your power has gone on way to long
watch my body swing so free
dead you hung me from a tree.
Free from you I find my peace
in a grave that's six feet deep
the cage unlocked, I found the key
dead you hung me from a tree.
poem by CJA Anderson
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When You Pick the Ticks Off Monkeys
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!
And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Your love for monkeys,
Leaves a lump right here...
In my throat!
And I get so emotional,
When you swing from branch to tree branch...
On a vine,
Swinging...
Like one who has swung on a rope!
And when you pick ticks...
From another monkey's fur?
I get teary eyed...
Just watching what occurs!
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove thst itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
When you pick the ticks off monkeys,
You remove the itch.
You remove the itch.
You remove that itch.
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
Can you do this even faster?
And remove that itch!
And remove that itch!
And remove that itch,
Every bit!
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
Ooo ooo ooo ooo ahhh ahhh ahhh ahhh,
You removed the itch.
You removed the itch.
You removed that itch...
From the tick inflicted monkeys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm not an Ape Man
'Mankind has descended from monkeys'
I heard on the telly last week;
The scientists say that it's certain,
I say that I think they've a cheek.
Just because our design is so similar
To monkeys and apes and baboons;
I don't reckon those chimps in the advert'
Have a clue what to do with those spoons.
I'm not fooled by their lovable antics,
And the 'smiles' that play on their lips;
It's an insult to dress them like humans,
And force them to drink P.G. tips.
We sit them in front of a mirror
Like a schoolmaster would do a dunce,
Then say: 'yes they've got self awareness'
If they do not attack it at once.
If it's true we're descended from monkeys
Why is it there's some of them left,
Why is it there's still some evolving
And the world isn't monkey bereft?
No, my mind is made up on the matter,
And it wasn't made up in a tree;
Let the scientist say what he wants to,
But he won't make a monkey of me!
Written Jan 1996
poem by John Carter Brown
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A Day In Summer
perhaps only some of you
knew what really happened
things that we did
at the prime of our youth
the one at the river was not true
neither was the one at the cogon grasses
the rumors were too advanced
and bent like a misshapen twig
perhaps this time you must have known
what joys we shared
picking ripe mangoes on that huge tree
at the foot of the hill
we drove no monkeys away
and no monkeys did give us any bother
the mangoes were too juicy
too ripe for our hands
too fragile for our wantonness
we never brought you any.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In These Trees Together
They watched me.
I watched them.
They with their tails...
And me swinging on a vine,
From tree to tree wondering
As I look for a place to settle!
'Why aren't the squirrels scratching their butts,
Like the monkeys?
We're all in these trees together!
And I'm doing the best I can to be neighborly! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Monkey Gone To Heaven
There was a guy
An under water guy who controlled the sea
Got killed by ten million pounds of sludge
From new york and new jersey
This monkeys gone to heaven
The creature in the sky
Got sucked in ahole
Now theres a hole in the sky
And the grounds not cold
And if the grounds not cold
Everything is gonna burn
Well all take turns
Ill get mine, too
This monkeys gone to haven
Rock me joe!
If man is 5 [3x]
Then the devil is 6 [5x]
Then God is 7 [3x]
This monkeys gone to heaven
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mind Monkey
Monkeys are
playing on trees...
jump with jump...
Side by side...
Monkeys...
Play...
Watch about mind...
Also play with
The monkeys....
Monkeys did not
watch about me...
o...
mind...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Once a tree falls, the monkeys on it will scatter.
Some say that AIDS came from the monkeys, and I doubt that because we have been living with monkeys from time immemorial, others say it was a curse from God, but I say it cannot be that.
quote by Wangari Maathai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Drop In Game
Two curious monkeys sat up in a palm tree
watching two Russian men playing chess.
Everyday they watched the Russians play
until a winner was declared the best.
The next day a Russian sat alone at the table
with the chess pieces set out to play.
A monkey dropped in and sat opposite him
and a game of chess got under way.
For over a week they played each other
until the monkey won five games to three.
The next day a lone monkey sat at the table
until its friend dropped down from a tree.
For two weeks they played each other
with every game resulting in a draw.
The monkeys that sat around watching
applauded and wanted to see more.
Two more weeks passed without a winner,
but then the tropical rains began to pour.
A hurricane blew the chess set out to sea,
now chess is played on the ocean floor.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The 3 Monkeys
Three little monkeys, they played about,
Doing all sorts of things, till their mother did shout;
If you don't stop this misbehaving, you'll go to bed,
All this playing up, is giving me a pain in my head.
Three little monkeys, would play hide and seek,
When they heard a secret, they'd be a sticky beak;
Sometimes they'd run away, till their mother called them back,
,
If you three keep playing up, you'll go to bed with a smack.
It reminds me of us children, when I was young growing up,
And mum told us to behave, we'd act like a naughty pup;
But! Most times I remember the great times we did play,
And when it was a holiday, we'd go somewhere to stay.
Yes! It wasn't all bad for those monkeys, those three,
And growing up, there were great times as well for me;
I thank my Mother, as I'm sure the monkeys do too,
Cause a mother can only take so much, oh yes! This is true.
poem by Margaret Haig
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A Dead Leaf
between these two shores
i float like a dead leaf
am not dead either..
if i was i will not feel the pain
budded flowered and became a fruit
on one shore
eaten and as a bare stray seed laid
at the other shore
as a seed i did germinate
the mother root grew into a tree
an off spring flower and fruit came by
all along as a seed i thought i was the tree itself
I NEVER THOUGHT I WILL LOOSE
MY IDENTITY AS A SEED
CAN A TREE SHOW ITS SEED
EVEN IF IT WANTS TO
ALL ALONG...
I thought i was the tree itself
may be i was a part of each part
the stem to hold, the leaf to nourish
till fate wind blew me down as a dead leaf
today as a dead leaf i float
wanting a living from one shore
wanting relationship from the other
as a dead leaf i float..am not dead with pain
ALL ALONG....
I DID THINK I WAS THE TREE ITSELF
BEING JUST A SEED
poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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The Fairy Tree
Up on this tree I have my heart beating,
The birds are around fully singing;
A stolen object expressed its presence
From out of the leaves and branches with brilliance.
The object forgave my life, its crime was with me,
And I sorted it out my life, with glee.
The possession was in the air and on the ground,
My soldiers are on this tree, the sound.
Let soldiers be monkeys and against all hope
Of leaving us alone. The sounds were birds that I grope
In this beautiful tree, this still fountain
Of loss and gain, like a mountain.
I let go of this death, I let go forever,
Much was secretive on this Easter.
I saw the chocolate egg on this chocolate tree
In the land of fairies, the land for me.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Life goes on
.
A lightning blasted tree still stands.
It bears no hint of greenery
but Mother Nature understands.
The tree provides a haven
for lesser creatures in her care.
A place to nest a place to rest
small creatures living everywhere.
Wherever they find suits them best.
The tree though dead still sustains life
as its substance rots away.
A sanctuary free from strife
the tree providing still today.
Although it’s dead the blasted tree
still serves a purpose faithfully.
17-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Know that a monkey is on your back
There is a monkey on your back
At any point of time each one of us is carrying a monkey on the back.
Whether you like it or not your thoughts, words and deeds are determined by this very powerful monkey.
This monkey is nothing but a personification of the tasks either
assigned to you or taken up on your own.
The life line of the monkey is the strong desire that you nurse to
accomplish these tasks.
You may not know that you only feed this monkey and make it naughty.
They quality of your feed and its extent depend on your knowledge, attitude and earlier practices.
Often, wittingly or unwittingly we act only to get rid of the monkey.
Unfortunately, if one monkey goes the other is just taking its place.
And you think, talk and act accordingly.
Some wise people, are they really wise, pass on the monkey to some other’s back tactfully, so the monkey is rid off, but still alive. This is what
exactly happens in a work environment.
Know your monkeys and their feeds.
Fail not to feed them in time, as monkeys should be fed or shot to death. Otherwise, they will starve to death, forcing you to conduct postmortem.
Keep monkeys' population below the maximum number you can probably feed.
Feed monkeys only by appointment, otherwise you will be feeding them at odd hours.
Feed monkeys personally, if left to others, they may feed wrong and/or in unacceptable doses.
Each monkey is unique, hence its feed and frequency of feed differs.
No monkey stays long. They know when to leave you as once the monkey is satisfied with your hospitality it jumps off your back.
The new monkey on your back is the task to know whether monkeys are there or not on your back.
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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